


Casually

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Inspired by a prompt I saw on a list of kiss prompts.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Casually

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts), [happyeverafter72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/gifts).



> Inspired by a prompt I saw on a list of kiss prompts.

It was one of those mornings John knew he should have stayed in bed. The weather outside the cozy sitting room was absolutely beastly, and so was his flatmate’s mood. Heavy rain lashed at the windows and thunder boomed as lightning split the sky.

Sherlock, for his part, scowled, grumbled, and smoked away in his chair by the roaring fire, resembling nothing so much as a volcano showing the first signs of activity after a long dormancy. John did everything he could to diffuse his mercurial friend – offers of food, tea, and coffee were waved away, as was a request that Sherlock play him something on the violin. No, Sherlock wanted to brood, and brood he would, all day if necessary.

Needing to get to his practice, John rose from his desk. “I’m off, I expect you’ll have this solved before dinner.” He bent to kiss the top of Sherlock’s head, the man’s hair thankfully free of macassar oil, then he grabbed his doctor’s bag before heading downstairs.

It wasn’t until he was in a hansom cab and halfway to his practice that John realized he had essentially given Sherlock a goodbye kiss like it was nothing extraordinary. _I wasn’t even thinking when I did it, I simply acted. And Holmes! All he did was grunt, as if it truly were an everyday occurrence._

_What has gotten into me? And him, for that matter?_

Thoughts of Sherlock and the kiss plagued John for the rest of the day. Every time he had a spare moment, he thought about the man who had come to mean more to him that anyone else he’d ever known. _He’s more than a friend or even a brother to me, but to kiss him! And so casually, as if I did it every day!_

_And what must Holmes think? Surely he noticed more than he acknowledged at the time. He’s probably wondering what I was thinking just as I am._

By the time he arrived home that evening, the morning storm had long passed but he could only guess if Sherlock’s stormy mood had done the same. Mrs. Hudson met John at the door and informed him that Sherlock had refused lunch and there had been no clients.

_That can only mean his mood has worsened since this morning,_ John thought as he climbed the stairs. Part of him wanted to hide away in his room but the rest of him knew he had to face his flatmate like an adult. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, John walked into the sitting room.

He found Sherlock pacing the length of the room and back, still smoking his pipe. The air in the room was decidedly smoky and John coughed several times as he busied himself with throwing open the windows.

“And how many pipes were employed for this problem, Holmes?” he asked irritably. “Five? Fifteen?”

“I admit that I lost count after the sixth,” Sherlock said absently, his mind obviously still on the problem.

John rolled his eyes. “Kidnappings don’t usually take you this long to solve.”

“You mean the case?” Sherlock waved his free hand in dismissal. “I solved that this morning before I even finished my first pipe.”

“Then … what has perplexed you all day?” _As if you didn’t know,_ his conscience reprimanded him.

“I’ve spent the day wondering how something as simple and fleeting as a brief kiss from a friend could make my entire world tilt on its axis.” He said it so casually that he might have been discussing the weather.

John turned to stare at him but Sherlock refused to meet his gaze. Still, the spots of bright color on his cheeks gave the man away.

“Well … it, er, stands to reason that a kiss from a friend could only be so profound if they were actually something more than a friend.”

Sherlock finally met his gaze. “Such as?” he murmured.

John swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Such as … a beau or a suitor.”

“I see,” Sherlock said, a corner of his mouth twitching, as if he were trying to hold back a smile. His eyes, though, were dancing as he approached him. “Would a second kiss prove this theory?”

John couldn’t help grinning as he realized what the dear, dear man was trying to say. “I’d say a second kiss would be all the proof necessary.”


End file.
